For sciene's sake
by fluffyunicorn17
Summary: John is more involved in one of Sherlock's experiments than ever


_Hello everyone! This is my first fanfiction about "Johnlock", a pairing that I really adore. Please be aware of that I am a German author and my English is not perfect! I'd appreciate feedback and criticism as well so feel free to leave a review._

_I hope you all like my fanfic, have fun!_

John Watson has never been a fearful man but the day he came into the living room of his apartment in Baker Street 221b he certainly was afraid. It neither was Moriarty nor Magnussen. What John Watson saw was worse and more frightening than a bloody union of all his enemies. Sherlock sat in one of those comfortable armchairs he has brought when they have moved in and had his notebook in his lap. He didn't wear a shirt though the November coldness has created frost patterns on their windows. His back was turned to the door, unfortunately making it possible for John to see what was on the screen. Watson didn't dare to move. He just stood there and stared. Stared at dark curls peeking over the top of the backrest, stared at a muscular arm with nicotine patches dangling beside the chair, stared at two naked girls making love on the screen of the notebook.  
"Hey". That was everything he could say. "Shh, they're almost done! Sit down and shut up!", Sherlock hissed and John, obviously, obeyed and sat down in the second armchair that faced Sherlock's.  
A small writing pad laid on the keyboard and Sherlock held a pen in his right hand that once in a while slid over the man's lips. His eyes were completely focused on the screen - on what was happening on it.  
John buried his face in his hands, he tried not to keep on watching. But yet he could _hear _them and they got louder. He knew exactly what kept him from just leaving the room and reading a good book on his bed: curiosity and maybe the fact that a shirtless Sherlock wasn't the worst thing to look at.

The moaning turned into hysterical screaming, heavy breathing, whispered words, silence. As he noticed that he held his breath he let it out through his teeth, making a noise that was unfitting in the awkward silence between them. Without even paying the tiniest bit of attention to his partner Sherlock dropped the pen in his lap, grabbed his left wrist and felt his own pulse.  
With a ridiculous seriousness he wrote something on the writing pad and nodded contentedly before finally turning to the other man in the room. "Good evening John". He smiled like he hasn't been caught watching a lesbian porn at all.

John coughed. "Uhm...what exactly are you doing there Sherlock?", he asked carefully since he wasn't sure if he really wanted to hear the answer. "Oh I was watching porn. Don't you know what it is? It's basically all about-", John covered his ears. "I know! God, I know!". He didn't want to hear him talking about stuff like that...or did he? "I just wanted to know...this all...", he made some wild gestures towards the writing pad and his wrist, "_why_ do you do this?". Sherlock grabbed the bottle to his right and took a mouthful of water without taking his eyes off of his best friend. He grinned. "Assuming that you know why men usually watch porn I think you can pretty much answer this question yourself Dr. Watson", he answered. John tried hard to ignore that narcissistic, arrogant grin on his face. "Assuming that _you _have never developed any kind of sexuality I think you probably don't watch them for your own pleasure". The corners of Sherlock's mouth began to twitch. "Brilliant deduction, Watson", the curly head giggled as he folded his hands.

"Well, actually this", he imitated Watson's wild gestures, "is part of an experiment I was really keen on doing, because it came to my mind that I might be...different". Once again John praised his nerves of steel that made it possible for him to get along with the childish and stubborn behaviour of his flatmate. "It takes more than 30 years for Sherlock Holmes to find out that he differs from others? Damn and people still think that you're really smart", he answered glibly. "I would like to hear more about this experiment though". Fortunately the detective learned to deal with his friend's humour and mean comments about his intelligence and they both considered this as a funny and endless game that could be played everywhere, at any time.  
With a wide grin on his face he started to explain: "It certainly isn't that complicated so I hope that even you can follow. As I said, I'm not like other people. Like other men. Sex and erotism have never played a role in my life and so far I have never been interested in changing this. For me love is nothing more than human defect. But I'm a widely read person and I know so many things but I don't have the tiniest knowledge about sexuality – I know how it's done but not...how it feels...what it does to me". His eyes were hesitantly resting on the blonde man's face who was still indecisive about whether it was cool and funny and just extremely odd talking with Sherlock about _this._

"Go on", he sighed. "In order to avoid any unnecessary interpersonal dramas and conflicts – god you know how much I hate this - I decided to test it on my own and did a bit of...well you can call it research. In short in round one", he stood up and passed the writing pad with the notes to John, "I watched different porn films in a lot of different categories and measured my pulse from time to time to see if these films arouse me and if so, which parts were most important. Together with some other annotations I wrote it all down. Right there". He pointed at the notes in John's hands and looked at him in anticipation as if there was no doubt that his partner would find his idea absolutely amazing.  
Watson quickly scanned the page. Man-on-man porn...he swallowed. The taken pulse at any time was described as "very fast". "This...this is...", he began, "Wait, wait don't answer! Brilliant? Ingenious? Extremely clever?", Sherlock suggested and chuckled. "Bullshit", John answered drily.

Sherlock went up and down in the small yet cosy living room without letting John out of his sight. "Why?", he asked so seriously that John wondered if he really thought his "experiment" was the best idea he has ever had. "Because even you should know that feelings are not measurable. Science can't always save you from going into real relationships with real people and real feelings!". Sherlock looked at him, sat down, crossed his arms and laid his head back. There he was again. The six-year-old stubborn Sherlock Holmes who sometimes showed up and whose behaviour was certainly adorable. "Oh come on, did you really think that it would work out?", he asked softly but his friend pouted. "Well I do have a better idea but that would be impossible to manage because it might causes a lot of trouble", Sherlock, who was obviously offended, answered.

"Tell me though".

"Uhh, we're brave today. Well as you can see in my notes the porn with the two men was...it was probably the most deciding one". The younger man stood in front of the window and looked out on the empty street, his hands were buried deep in the pockets of his trousers.

"I thought about it and came to the result that it was so arousing because I subliminally thought about doing the same with a special person", he explained and turned his head to John who automatically looked to the floor and blushed. The detective went over to him, grabbed his chin and forced him gently to look at him. "Seems like you now who I'm talking about". The doctor found it hard to think. The crystal blue eyes that caught his own, the well-shaped and appealing lips and the naked torso got him dizzy.

"You must be kidding me", he stuttered.

"I'm never kidding you should know that by now John. I can imagine that it's weird for you but I'm...I'm afraid of missing something in my life. I want to make these experiences just once...just to know".

Sherlock didn't loose his grip but in a way it was hard for him to look at John. He has never felt that insecure before because his intelligence and his knowledge have always enabled a superior position towards others. And now John and all the other people who experienced it before were superior to him and he could barely handle it.

"I'm just asking you to make me feel what it's like giving pleasure, receiving pleasure. Just to find out if I'm even able to feel that way. Just for science's sake. And I hope that you know how extremely hard it is for me to say it but...teach me. Please", he said with a voice that lowered more and more until his request was nothing more than a whisper.  
John stood up and took his friend's face in his own hands, trying not to drown in those wonderful eyes that he already got lost in when they have met for the very first time. Here he was and he could have everything he wanted. "I can't", he said and shrugged his shoulders. "I just can't because you should not make this experience with me but with someone you love. Doing it 'for science's sake' really is the wrong attitude to start with". The curly head smiled and bent down.

"Stupid thing. How can you dare to say that I won't do it with someone I love when I want to do it with you?", he asked softly, softlier than he has ever talked to someone.

"Teach me", he whispered again with a deep voice that made John shiver. And maybe it were these shivers and the dizziness that moved John to forget his doubts and worries. Or maybe John really did it because of his curiosity, "for science's sake". Whatever it was made him kiss the man that was his best friend for years on his soft and oh so kissable lips – just for a second.  
Even though Sherlock had asked his friend to do it he was surprised when he actually felt the warm lips on his own. A shiver went through his whole body, through his ribs, his chest and up his spine, finally causing him to utter a quiet moan. "So sensitive?", John asked and the detective hoped he could not see his flushed cheeks. "I just don't know how...", he mumbled but his partner grabbed his hands and smiled at him. "I know. It's okay", he promised.  
Sherlock felt an odd warmth in his chest. Something he has felt before but that has been difficult to classify and in this moment he found out. Comfort and security were what he has felt when being with John all along, from the very beginning and he was more than willing to give it all back to him. Sherlock wrapped his strong arms around him, holding him tightly as he ran his fingers through his hair.

"You mean a lot to me. I wish I was able to express my feelings better but for now that's all I can say", he said.

"That's more than I've ever asked for", John answered and kissed him more passionately.

Together they stumbled in the detective's bedroom where they landed on the bed, still sunken in a deep, slow kiss. John slid his hands over the other's bare, hairless chest. He felt his incredible fast heartbeat, felt his muscles, his bellybutton – he felt _him._ John's lips made their way across the high cheekbones, the neck and the collarbone and finally met those beautifully contoured lips again.  
Sherlock just laid beneath him, unable to do anything but moving his mouth hungrily against the other one. He was so overwhelmed by everything that was happening right now that he could barely handle it and this annoyed him because was so used to having the control over everything. He decided to get a little bit of the control back and tried to open up the buttons of John's shirt with his shaky hands. "You're trembling Mr. Holmes. Are you nervous?".

"Oh shut up Watson!", was his unfriendly because embarrassed answer.

"Dr. Watson", John purred in his ear.

The doctor really seemed to enjoy the power he had but as he saw that it certainly was a tough situation for his friend he gently ran his fingers through the messy dark curls and kissed his forehead.

"Don't be nervous, we're not in a hurry. I'm gonna show you what I like and together we'll find out what makes you lose your mind", he said but the detective with his injured pride answered slightly offended: "Pff, nothing and no one could ever get Sherlock Holmes to lose his mind".

A deep sigh and some eye-rolling reminded him he had to shut up and lay his innocence in John's trustworthy hands. "Thank you, really. And I...I enjoy a lot what you're doing to me", he admitted.

"I can feel it...", John whispered as he closed his hand around the bulge between his friend's legs and started to massage it slowly.

Sherlock laid his head back and moaned loudly. It felt like thousands little needles stimulated his body everywhere, it was like a fire in his loins that spread rapidly and made him burn from the inside. Through one eye he saw how his pants were opened and thrown on the floor, how his underwear followed. He squirmed as he realised that he was completely naked but when looking into John's well-known eyes, holding his hand he knew that it was okay.  
They kissed again and this time Sherlock didn't fail in taking the shirt off. His hands were all over the other man's torso, they touched him and stroked him and Sherlock enjoyed those adorable and fascinating sounds that John made.

The lips went down on his body and very lightly touched his stomach, his hip bone and his thighs before sliding over the whole length of his member. A surprised but sensual moan left the detective's throat as John took the tip in his mouth and teased it with his tongue. The younger man desperately buried his hand in the dark blonde hair, trying to find at least a tiny bit of hold while all those new impressions and feelings came down on him. His body curled up on the mattress and the room was filled with aroused whimpers and moans.  
Watson reached out for the other hand and held it tightly while moving his head up and down without ever letting Sherlock out of his sight because the view was simply beautiful. Flushed cheeks, half-closed eyes and a muscular thorax that raised and lowered rapidly. Suddenly he was pressed down on the bed and before he could say something his trousers were gone and he felt a hand around his cock massaging him shyly but steadily.

"Oh god", he moaned as he saw how his mouth made his way down to his loins, "...w-what are you...holy shit!". He really did it. Sherlock Holmes sucked his cock – and it was amazing.

The two men looked each other in the eyes, hoping secretly that this wasn't the last time they saw each other like that because this all was too beautiful to miss it. John laid his head back and desperately gasped for air, still noticing those crystal eyes that followed every move he made, as his member slid deeper into the hot throat but right before he wasn't able to handle it anymore he stopped. His friend's damp curls fell in his face as he bent down to John's ear.

"You are fucking gorgeous, John", he whispered and spread warm, soft kissed on his chest and neck.

The doctor smiled widely and kissed him while moving his hands down his back and over his bottom. For a moment Sherlock was unsure about what to think but since everything they did felt so good he just decided to let go and kept on kissing him passionately.  
John started to massage his rim, slid one finger in, then another one. He stretched him, mouthing his neck and shoulders while doing so, enjoyed every whimper, every moan that his friend uttered until finally turning around with him, kneeling over his stomach.

"You think you're ready?".

Sherlock smiled softly and spread his legs. "Does this suffice you?", he asked back, his voice was trembling with excitement but still he sometimes trusted John more than his mind which for him was obviously rare.  
Ever since they have met, both being convinced of not finding anyone to live with because they were just awkward and lost personalities, ever since John has been the first to find his work impressive instead of creepy, ever since he has seen this beautiful smile on John's face when realising he doesn't need his cane anymore Sherlock has known that this man was the best thing that has ever happened to him.

A slight resistance pushing against his entrance made him think of the here and now and lord, the present has never felt so good. John's member were pushed deeper and deeper inside, surrounded by an incredible heat and tightness. Both men moaned with pleasure and clung to each other like there was nothing else to hold on, like they were each other's safest haven – simply because it was just like that.

"Are you okay? Can I move?", John, for whom it was obviously difficult to hold back anyway, gasped. "Oh god John...just fuck me", Sherlock groaned in his ear with the deepest and raspiest voice.

John kissed him wildly and started to thrust, making him cry out, making himself moan, making _love_ to him.  
Sherlock didn't care about the bed that squeaked with every move, didn't care about his clothes that were spread in room, didn't care about Mrs. Hudson who might hear his cries because he didn't notice. His mind was blurry, his thoughts were buzzing messily around in his head since he was only able to focus on John and on what he did to him, on the wave of emotions and pleasure that overran him with every thrust.  
He kept on whispering his name, again and again, as he if he was afraid that he would leave. A sudden change of the angle caused an explosion of joy, caused Sherlock to scream and bury his nails in John's back.

"D – Don't stop, John, p-please do it again", he whimpered.

His prostate. John bit his lip, tried to reach that spot again, wanted to see him like that more often and he succeeded. With every time he hit that spot their lust was growing, it built up to an immense wall that was able to break every second.

"I think I'm...cumming...John", Sherlock uttered with a voice so thin and weak that it was hard to understand.

"I'm here...look at me", John, who was more than close to his orgasm as well, whispered.

Their eyes met again and shamelessly sunk in each other while the men were both heading towards their orgasms, before finally exploding and breaking down their walls. Sherlock cried out and squirmed as he came on his own stomach, feeling John's warm sperm spreading inside of him.

The older man sunk down on Sherlock's chest, buried his face on his neck, still trembling and shaking in the other's strong and protecting arms. It took a while, maybe even two, until their seas of emotions calmed down to a point at which they were able to do something, to move, maybe even to speak. But in this moment John was just sliding his fingers of his friend's collarbone while Sherlock was playing with the dark blonde strands of hair, still trying to organise all that has happened this evening but his mind was so blown, so empty that he gave up quickly.

"You were right. I did lose my mind and I'm not sure if I have it back yet".

They chuckled.

"I told you. And I don't care if you don't get it back because maybe you'll then let me sleep in your bed tonight?", John asked carefully.

Sherlock was visibly confused, he wouldn't dare to throw him out after that. He would've never dared to do so. "Of course I will. It was...amazing". John swallowed and nodded. "It was. Give me your hand", he said and they crossed their fingers, fell asleep like that at only 9 pm and slept so well like they haven't for years.

John woke up at 7 am. He looked around the room and down on himself and contentedly noticed that he was naked in Sherlock's bedroom. It was not a dream. The place beside him was empty but he heard suspicious noises in the kitchen. "Mr. Holmes?", he shouted and smiled as the door opened only seconds later. The detective stood in the doorframe, dressed with nothing more than briefs and with the messiest hair John had ever seen on him. His cheeks were firing red and he tried not to look at him. "Uhm...good morning. I'll be seeing Lestrade in thirty minutes, an emergency, so I don't have much time", was all he said before going the kitchen and returning with a tray that he placed on the bed stand. Sherlock has made coffee and even bought a croissant that he has put on the tray together with a knife and different sorts of jam. "See you later", he mumbled and turned around quickly but John grabbed his wrist.

"I know Lestrade would never dare to call you so early and I know that you would not wander around like that when there really existed an emergency. I'm not the only one who can deduce. Stay with me. Let's have breakfast together", he said and grinned.

He knew that Sherlock just tried to dodge from the consequences because the breakfast and that lovely look on his face showed him that he did care about him. The younger man sighed and hesitantly crawled into the bed.  
John dipped a piece of the pastry in his friend's favourite jam and held it in front of his mouth. Sherlock smirked and let John feed him. He gently grabbed his fingers and brushed a kiss on the back of his hand. His friend blushed and looked down.

"Thank you for not asking...for not being complicated", Sherlock whispered, laying his arm around the other man's shoulders. In the moment in which the men were pressing their naked torsos against each other it was like an unspoken fact between them. They have always loved each other and they will forever.


End file.
